The royal guard galloped down the halls of the castle in Canterlot, searching for the library. Left hall, two doors down. Yes, she is here!
"P-Princess Twilight..."
"Yes?" Twilight responded, moving her gaze from the book to the guard.
"There are visitors... er... important visitors... They have requested your presence."
"Where?" Twilight asked, noting the anxiety in the guard's voice.
"In the throne room. Now, time is of the essence."
"Why? Who is it?"
"They are, erm... things. I-It doesn't matter, we have to go."
"Okay..." Why in the world can't he tell me who the visitors are?
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"How is the metadimensional portal holding?"
"It is stable, for now. The operatives have about half an hour to plant the anchor before we lose the power to maintain their exit."
"Alright," the first replied as he picked up what looked to be a walkie-talkie on steroids.
"Have you planted the metadimensional anchor yet?"
"No, we have been spotted and taken to the castle by the royal guard, and are now waiting for the attendance of Princess Twilight Sparkle," the device replied.
"Grrrrr.... You have half an hour."
"Yes sir."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
As Twilight opened the doors to the throne room, she was met by the presence of two strange beings wearing masks with smug, devious looks on them, as well as dark trench coats.
"So you were found inside castle grounds, and the guards brought you here... Did you come from the mirror in the Crystal Empire? It should have been moons before it opened again..."
"No, we are from elsewhere. It is not important that you know who we are, for we are Anonymous. We simply came here to plant this research device," the first figure said as he produced a metal cube from his pocket.
"Research, you say?" The princess was clearly curious.
"Yes, is there an open room in which we could place this?"
"I guess we could put it in the storage area of the castle..."
"Excellent! Lead the way."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The bulky walkie-talkie once again spoke, saying, "We have placed the anchor in the Canterlot Castle storage area."
"Excellent," the man on the other end of the device applauded through the mask obscuring his face, then turning to speak to another masked person, the one operating the portal system.
"Reroute the portal to the metadimensional anchor."
"Rerouting to the MDA, sir."
"Yes. Perfect."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The two masked men spoke into a device, then the box zapped them both with a light, and they were gone.
"There is another dimension besides the one through the mirror. I am going to have to tell Celestia and Luna once they return from their business in the Crystal Empire," Twilight spoke as she stared at the box. The guard nodded.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The two masked men were now standing in the the underground lab that the other two had been manning the portal from.
"Brony empowerment anchor set," the first operative stated.
"Yes, what is the next fandom on the list?" the coordinator inquired.
"Um, sir?" The second operative spoke up.
"What?"
"Why even set up an anchor for a fandom as dumb as the Bronies?"
"The New Order must be equal to all the fandoms, even the ones like the Bronies and Furries."
"I wish it wasn't this way. Isn't treating those dumb horse lovers breaking the third rule? You remember the war-"
"Yes, I remember," the coordinator cut him off, "but as soon as some territorial establishment takes place, when the masses gather, that is when we remind our enemies of the third rule: Anonymous never forgives."
"We must inform those higher up that we are ready to begin a new age, the start of the New Order."
"Yes sir."
"Oh, how I've waited for this moment!"
"So say we all."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Years of preparation and hard work, they have resulted in what you see before you, and the climactic events about to be displayed," the masked figure spoke to an army of similarly masked comrades, pointing to a giant supercomputer hooked up to a reactor. "We recently finished planting the anchors in the dimensions spawned by the internet, as well as integrating the internet itself into the New Order Device. Today, the entirety of our omnipotent group will get to witness its launch. As you watch, remember that the world will never be the same again. We mastered the internet, surpassed the world in all of its technology, hopped through dimensions, even traveled through time to do this. Brothers, sisters, you should all be proud of yourselves. You all deserve to witness the dawn of the New Order."
The New Order Device began to glow brilliant colors and a beam of gray light shot into the sky, the universe seemed to shatter for a brief moment, and then everything flew back together. The light became nearly blinding, as the crowd cheered and chanted, "We are Anonymous! Anonymous is legion! Anonymous never forgives!"
Then all became still, peaceful, even if just for a moment. No one knew if the world would be that calm ever again. Chances were that it never would, for the old world was gone.
"Welcome to the New Order! Now, let us build an empire."
It appears that my being a fanfictionist allows for the recording of a mental journal.... in case my mental ramblings end up being interesting.... I doubt that I can ever learn all of the quirks of this new world, or get used to wings and hooved feet. I like the white hair and mint green eyes though. It makes me feel epic!
I digress. My name is- something within me says that my name died with the old world. This world, some tell me it is fused with the internet, yes? How they know is a mystery to me. Perhaps they are just reading the signs better than I am. Well then, everypony- wow... it comes almost automatically now, more than before. Bronyspeak is natural now... Everypony has begun to use their internet username as identity, so that makes me... Solong... SolongStarbird. Yes, that is it.
I only now begin to understand where the hell I am... somewhere in Georgia. It appears that everypony has awoken in a strange place like me. We all have the same message buzzing in our heads: The New Order will not be hindered by ties to home. Explore and establish elsewhere.
The New Order, huh? So that is what it is being called, but by whom? Who started this?
Oh, whatever. So, um... a recap... The sky shattered.... and I woke up in this.. Oakland Cemetery, of Waycross, Georgia. Where is that? In Georgia, I mean... I basically wandered around for the day, looking for other people. There have been a few, and together we kinda figured that the world has been merged with the internet, that and the urge in the back of our heads hinted at it. I don't like it, the voice, none of us do. Who put it there? It does seem to help prevent cluelessness in this strange new world, though, so we all might as well listen to it.
I can tell that the others are uncomfortable with my presence, or is it the other way around? I have been a brony for awhile, but now I can't hide it. At least I had been relatively open about it in the past. I can only imagine that there are other herd members hiding in the dark, uncomfortable that their secret is being forcibly worn on the sleeve, so to speak.
Night has fallen, and I finally remember to check my watch. October 17, 2017. Good. At least time hasn't changed. It is still fall, and I am still 18, thankfully.
Our small group has found a place to stay in a hotel (abandoned, of course). As I close my eyes on a first day in a new world, that buzz comes back, and says: Each day will be more interesting than the last.
The voice was right. Things are getting interesting. Apparently we all had very similar dreams. We all woke up in an infinite expanse of white, no walls, no ceiling, just a hard, cold, white floor.
There was a stick figure, who claimed to be that voice. It told me that the internet, and the dimensions it had spawned, had been fused with the world, confirming what we had deduced. It explained that this had in turn affected everypony's DNA, explaining why everypony now seemed to be a hybrid of their fandoms. It then began to spout off a list that defined my new world genetics, which my fanfictionist brain, and already existing elephant memory, recorded down:
SolongStarbird Male 18 Primary Fandom Genetic Type: Brony Brony Type: Pegasus Major Auxiliary Fandom Genetics: Otaku, Whovian, Pokemon Primary Artistic/Creative Type: Producer- Fanfictionist Major Auxiliary Artistic Types: Consumer- Music, Consumer- Fanfiction, Consumer- Art
I remember saying, "What?" after the stick figure said all of this, but I understand what it means now.
The stick figure then demanded, "I will be your guide. Give me a name, gender, and appearance."
I decided that it would now be he, and for some reason, my mind molded him into a chibi figure....
"I guess that I will call you what you are: Guide."
"Excellent."
"Oh, and who put you in my head?"
"The ones who brought about the New Order."
"I could have guessed as much, but who are they."
"I am not allowed to say..."
"Alright then..."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
That is when I awoke. The rest of the group seemed to have experienced the same dream. I am not sure that I have much more to say about that, but I assume that Guide will be back the next time I sleep.
The rest of the group: Two Otakus, a Sonic fan, and a Homestuck, proceeded to basically kick me and some other Furry girl from the group out of the hotel. My suspicions were right...
The Furry continued to yell at the rest of the group, and I turned to her and suggested that we just go. Her response basically equated to, "Just because we got kicked out together doesn't mean I am comfortable around... your kind." She then ran off. So, new world, new kind of racism.
I focused the remainder of the day on equipping myself for this new, and no doubt hostile, world. I found a military surplus store, and within it there were a myriad of weapons, but perhaps a bit more important, rugged clothing. I found a kevlar jacket, perhaps a little big on me, but that is fine. I still have a little bit to grow... It comes down to just above my knees, so a trenchcoat, sorta, I guess? Cutting holes in it for my wings was a real bitch, though... There were plenty of other things, too. I found plenty of pants, but I ended up having to... modify them to fit my new.... haunched?... legs. No need for shoes... Oh, and a good, sturdy 6-inch-blade Ka-Bar. No gun, not yet. I still have standards, and I don't want to kill anypony. Canteen... check. Of all of the bandanas, I choose the purple camo and tied it around my neck all bandit style... in case of smoke or something... Why? Oh whatever, I think i'm set... Wait.. A backpack of sorts would help. The only problem is that I have wings... I guess I will just sling a satchel over each shoulder. Alright... now to find a map.
So, I have decided to divide Guide's dream sequences into separate entries. After finding a map, the sun had begun to set, so I broke into some random house and hit the hay.
Guide was back, cute stubby body and all. (Seriously, what is up with me?) It seems that whoever started this new world wants us all to be accustomed to our new selves and abilities, because we all have the voice, the guide...
Guide discussed the basics of my genetics and anatomy this session. So, like was mentioned last night, my primary fandom genetics make me a brony. I have hooved feet and legs covered in... is it fur or hair? Hair.... I guess.. brown hair.... Horse hair. I look like a half-human version of my OC... but this is an internet world, so what else would I look like? How would you describe a pony's hind legs, with that weird double joint? Is it a haunch? Haunched legs? Whatever, I have those double jointed knees that point backwards, like a pony's... Damn... Describing myself is hard... The coat of hair ends at my side... hip... flank? Well, there is a cutie mark there, under my pants.... My signature, with the crosshair-looking symbol and cursive J.... just like my OC... So yeah, like I said before... I look like a hybrid of my human self and my OC.... I have quite a few features to suggest this. The brown-coated hooved feet and double-jointed legs, the mark, the brown feathered wings, the mint greenish eyes and white hair.... Yeah, i'm just going in circles, and you get the picture.
Guide finished talking about how my appearance is based on my new genetics, and focused on what it meant I could do.
"You have wings, and you seem to have figured out how to tailor clothes to fit around them. You can fly... duh, but it will take a bit of practice... I say we focus on that tomorrow, perhaps overmorrow. Those legs, they are impressively strong. A good kick can break bones. No doubt, you understand much of how the tech and magic surrounding you kind works, another genetic perk. Oh, and this takes a bit of practice, but you can shift the amounts of human and pony in your appearance, meaning you could look normal minus the eyes and white hair, look like you do now, become anthro, or even take on a full pony form."
"Woah."
"Indeed, and you are a pegasus brony, so clouds are tangible to you. You can walk on them, grab them, even control the weather to some extent."
"Nice."
"If it won't kill you, I suggest trying to fly tomorrow."
"Ok. I think I might have even tried without your recommendation."
"Good. The New Order won't be kind to those who fall behind. Until you next sleep, SolongStarbird."
Okay... What is the obvious step forward from here, in this new world? What does one do? Well, I would at least like to return home, if only briefly. I understand that these people who established the New Order wish for such a thing not to happen, but there are things I wish to obtain, and I also want to see if anypony from the family remains there. I don't plan to stay there, for I worry that there will be consequences in doing so. If they can put Guide into my head, then I am sure that they can easily punish me for breaking the only established rule. I hope they have some tolerance, whoever they are...
As far as transportation comes, Waycross is in southern Georgia, and I doubt that flying through two states is an option... well, yet. I seem to have the basics down. A day of practice allows me to greatly soften falls and even glide a little, from roof to roof. Gaining altitude still presents problems, though. I will pass that barrier eventually.
You know, it feels interesting, having wings. You would think that extra limbs would feel alien and be hard to get used to, but no, they feel natural, and I can control them as easily as I can control my arms. What stops me from flying, it seems, is a lack of knowledge involving flight. Watching birds can only inform you so much... and you would think that being a pegasus brony would genetically provide the knowledge needed to understand how to slice through the sky with ease... Perhaps it is dormant knowledge? Oh well, I am sure I will get it soon, like riding a bike...
Bingo! A bike! That is perfect! And the map says that there is a motorcycle shop.... Well, nowhere nearby, anyway. A few places with ATVs... Can ATVs cover ground as quickly as a motorbike? I guess it is worth a shot, and besides, maybe what the ATV lacks in speed it makes up for in durability and offroading....
Okay... There is the sports shop that the map shows, and within it, no doubt, are at least a few ATVs.
It turns out that upon entering the store, I found that the group who had kicked me and that girl out were in the shop, and they seemed to have picked up a few new members as well... I discovered this as I walked into blatant sight of them. They all turned and looked at me with subtle signs of both ire and surprise. The Homestuck was first to speak.
"Damn, I hoped we wouldn't bump into your gayness again..."
"Not gay," I grunted.
"Shut up, horse fag!" The Homestuck pulled out a Beretta pistol.
Wait, a gun?!?! A MOTHERBUCKING GUN!!?!?!?!??! I turned to run, and the Homestuck shot at me twice, the first shot hitting my lower right arm, and the second grazing my shoulder. The kevlar in my new jacket reduced the severity of my injury, but didn't stop the bullet from going through the rather tough cloth, even if barely, and getting stuck about half a centimeter into my arm. This sounds pathetic, but I don't think any of us were used to bullet wounds, and there was a small piece of metal stuck in my arm, and sweet Celestia did it hurt! I stumbled back around the corner and ran out of the store, the hostile crew in pursuit, no doubt with tools to inflict harm now drawn.
It is amazing what desperation can get you to do. As soon as I ran out the front door, another shot broke the glass on the door and missed my leg by a few inches. I looked at the roof, and felt that the only way to escape was to get up there. Well, it turns out that jumping and forcing one's wings down at the same time makes for a rather epic jump. As I flew upward, I realized that it wouldn't be enough, and a few more flaps brought me to about 10 feet in the air, enough to grab the roof's edge and use my wings to push up onto the top of the building. While doing so, two more shots were heard throughout the area, the first chipping the concrete between my legs, and the second flying right through the edge of one of my flapping wings, slightly disrupting the feathers.
They knew I was on the roof, so I just ran, jumping and gliding from rooftop to rooftop to rooftop, until I was practically sure they were gone, forgetting the scuffle and returning to claiming what they wanted in that store.
My adrenaline surge was gone, and the pain in my arm was ever present. I had stopped on the roof of somepony's house, in some suburb. I must have roof-hopped for at least half of a mile. The house was two stories tall, and I was still hesitant to be on the ground again, so I walked around the roof until I found a second story window. I was past wanting to exert myself by unlocking the window from the outside, so I just kicked it, and the shards flew away from my hoofed foot.
Medical cabinet.... medical cabinet... During my search, I opened the door to the garage, and there, parked and pristine, was a motorcycle. It was one of those... Bagger bikes... Touring bikes... the ones with the large windshields, two seats, and numerous storage compartments on the back, and it was a resplendent forest green. Absolutely perfect!
I sent a thankful prayer to God... There still was a God, right? Was I supposed to send prayers to Celestia now? No, there was still a God....
After finding the box this family had kept medical supplies in, I finally removed the bullet, there being just enough metal sticking out for me to grasp it with my fingers and pull. A new wave of pain shot up through my arm, and blood immediately began to well up out of the now unobstructed wound and drip to the floor. I applied an antibacterial, wrapped the wound tightly with a little bit of bandage and medical tape, and found some thread to sew up the small hole in the sleeve of my light gray protective jacket, which had saved me from having a bullet lodged deep in the middle of my arm. The feathers that had been shot through only showed the slightest signs of damage, so I only had to smooth them out. I then went to check on the motorcycle.
The keys were on the counter in the kitchen. The keyring had multiple additional keys on it, as well as as a few of those small store discounting cards and a fob that said "God bless America" on it. I removed all but the keys pertaining to the motorcycle.
It took a little bit to get used to the motorcycle, but as soon as I did, I lifted up the garage door and took off into the dusk.
I traveled about 15 miles north before stopping at a gas station. I filled up the tank, which had been two-thirds empty prior to the fueling.
>What method of payment will be used?<
None. This was the New Order. Screw gas prices. The pump would just sit there and ask that question forever.
I parked the motorcycle in one of the parking spots, trying to make it look as natural as possible. Hopefully, anypony that came by would think that the owner, and therefore the keys, were gone, and just continue on their way. I just hoped that nopony nearby would both want the bike and have knowledge of hotwiring.
The convenience store had a back room for storage, so I just found the cleanest corner in there and let weariness cause my eyes to close....
"Had your first action and injuries today, I see."
"Yeah, I forgot how much people could hate bronies, and even then, that Homestuck hated me more than anypony else I have met who found out I was a brony."
"Before, rivalries and ire existed between fandoms through the internet, now they happen in the world, and the hate has been amplified, even so much to the point where people will kill each because they dislike each others' affiliations."
"Dang."
"Indeed, but tonight, you learn different things. I discussed the perks of your fandom genetics last night. Now, we discuss the perks of your artistic/creative types. Your main type is a producer of fanfiction: a fanfictionist. It took you only a few hours to discover the ability to record a mental journal. Hats off to you. You also have a heightened mental acknowledgement of detail. For example, you were able to tell that the pistol was a Beretta from only a moment's glance at it. I know, I can read that mental journal of your's and it will be worth your time to know that you will most likely be able to go home, but you cannot stay without consequences. Back on track, there is an advanced fanfictionist ability called limited omniscience. Essentially, you are aware of everything going on everywhere, but you will only be able to know any of those things after they have happened through severe focus. The more distant an event, the harder it is to know it. Once you are able to do it, however, you might be able to know what happened in a building 100 miles away an hour prior."
"That sounds a bit complex."
"It seems that way. Think of it as the ultimate flashbackish vision accessed through meditation."
"Alright then..."
"A fanfictionist can also use their abilities to empower the unempowered through bio creation."
"Hold up! I understood about half of what you just said."
Guide sighed, and then perked up as if he had remembered something. "Oh, yes, I guess I am supposed to tell you, and I know that the topic has been gnawing at your mind, so here we go. Obviously, the founders of the New Order, they don't like people who lack the geek genetics. They are the unempowered, for they lack any of the special abilities that those of the fandoms have. There are generally a few kinds of unempowered. There are those who lack geek genetics entirely and even detested the geeks of the old world,the first class, then there are those who have the genetics, but did not have the strength required to undergo the empowerment, the second class. There is a way to empower the unempowered, as I suggested earlier. The prior of the two groups, you would need to completely change their mindset, as well as give them time to develop the love of a series needed to become a true geek, and that can be quite difficult. The second group, however, if you can merely boost their genetics through increasing... their involvements and assets as a geek, then they will be able to undergo empowerment. Like I said, you are a fanfictionist, so you excel at character development. If you can create OC bios for the unempowered, especially that second class, then you can help empower them."
"Okay.... It is weird that I haven't seen any unempowered yet. Oh, and what about the people who are total geeks over their show or book, but haven't even scratched the surface of fandoms, or even know what the word means for that matter, perhaps even hate them? I know people like that.
"I suppose I can tell you... My masters will allow it. They are the third class. They have ample geek DNA, and some even possess basic powers, so they do not need the genetic boosts that the other two classes need, but they do need to have their mindset changed like the first...." Guide winced, "That is all that they will let me tell you."
"That leads me to believe that your masters are hiding secrets about that third class."
"I have told you all you need to know about them, just as much as the other two, and perhaps they are restricting me as to not let you know too much too quickly."
I backed off. What Guide had said made complete sense, and even if it wasn't right, I wasn't going to get any more out of him. Too much knowledge can be a dangerous thing.
"On the note of flying, you are a quick learner, and you are somewhat right in saying that a lack of knowledge on flight and aerodynamics is preventing you from flight just know. Just keep practicing. I am sure it will click for you... eventually."
Surprisingly, there was no trouble in the morning. I spent an hour or two using the convenience store to my leisure. Free soda, read a magazine, stack random boxes, basically do shit that wasn't acceptable in the old world. A little freedom can indeed make you go a bit nuts, even if for only a little. I took all of the money from the cash register: 48 dollars. I remembered that there was the "we never have more than 50 dollars so don't rob us" thing going on in like every convenience store. I also grabbed two cigarette lighters on the way out. Fire can come in handy... Yeah, I love fire.
The riding today has been relatively uneventful. I heard gunshots a few times, but the shooters were never seen, and I wasn't the target. Cars either sat in the middle of the freeway, or were piled on the sides. At one point, I even offered a short ride to a browncoat who seemed to be running from pursuers. I was wary of the fact that he might just be trying to mug me or something, but he seemed to have no weapons on him, and I took the precaution of letting him know that I had six inches of blade strapped onto my belt that I could use. He caused no problems. I dropped him off five miles of highway later, wondering if I would ever be able to do that again: just help somepony. The world seemed to be getting crueler by the minute.
I have spent quite a bit of the ride contemplating ways to better understand flight. The rushing wind eventually sparked an epiphany within me. I spread my wings, letting the rushing air slide around them. I felt closer to flying than ever. I tilted my wings in as many directions and at as many angles as I could think of, and let the wind direct my path. I could feel the lift, the drag, the flow of the air, and I soon knew what tilting certain feathers would do. Maneuvering was less of a problem than before. All that remained a relatively untouched area was power flapping. If I could figure out how to go up, away from the ground, then I could really begin application of what I was learning on my ride. Experimentally, I flapped my wings. I could feel the upward momentum. Good, I thought to myself. I would truly begin attempts when I stopped.
Three and a half hours of riding put me around the edges of Savannah, Georgia. Somewhere around two hours into the journey, and after passing through two towns, I had graduated from highway to interstate, and another hour had brought me to where I was now. It was around 1 o'clock, so I broke into a Subway for lunch. While food was still fresh, I was going to take advantage of it.
As I rode through the downtown area of the city, I saw a few more geeks. Some had had the same idea as me, and were having a food party in a McDonalds. Others were attempting to establish a home base of sorts in an office building. It was then that I saw another of my kind for the first time.
He was leaned up against a trash can on the side of a building, quietly eating a burger, probably from the McDonalds. As I got closer to him, I saw that he had been cut in a few places, especially his left arm, and that his longer jet black hair was matted down with sweat, parting messily around the green horn on his forehead.
"Are you alright?"
From the look he gave me, I must have been the first brony he had seen as well.
"Yeah, I just got kicked out of the Micky D's. I managed to get all of the glass shards out my arm though."
"Not serving us, my guess?
"Eeyup."
"No one stand up for you?"
"There is this otaku girl I have been hanging with, but she fell silent after the other guys kicked me out the already broken front window. Dammit! Of all that I could have been, why did I end up a brony?"
"Now don't say that, I am pretty sure it is because you love MLP above all others. No need to be ashamed," I pulled up my sleeve, "I have already been shot in the arm for being a brony, and that hasn't stopped me, so why should being kicked out of a restaurant stop you?"
"Because they have knives."
"Hmmm.... By any chance has your voice helped you learn any basic spells?"
"I can levitate a few objects, but I can't manipulate the movements of more than one levitating item."
"Then you already have an advantage," I pulled out my knife.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
We approached the McDonalds, and as we got within earshot, I could hear one of the people inside grumble, "Damn, now there is two of them!"
"You mean there are two of them," I called back. They were all no doubt pissed now, but hey, I couldn't pass up on correcting that blatant error.
"The hell you two messed up fuckers want?"
"Maybe some more food. You people seemed to have gorged yourselves already. Any leftovers?"
"Not for the likes of you!"
"Shame," I replied, "I guess we will have to get it ourselves."
I nodded to my partner, and his horn began to glow a shade of orange matching his eyes. My knife flew towards the McDonalds, stopping a few inches from the face of the man who had been verbally confronting us from a distance.
Everypony drew weapons of their own.
"Heh, heh, not so smart now, huh?" our confronter snickered. The knife became an inch closer to his face.
"Hut'uun! Ne shab'rud'ni! " one yelled as he threw a tomahawk in our direction. I began to duck, but the tomahawk was brought to a halt, now glowing a magical hue of orange, and flung back in the direction of the thrower. Missing by an infinitesimal amount, it became embedded in the ordering area countertop.
Any options of diplomatic approach had been lost. All came charging for us, including the original aggressor, who had moved away from the knife when the tomahawk had been thrown. The overglow surrounding my ally's horn sparked brightly and a second layer of magic surrounded the first. All of our foes' weapons began to glow, and were yanked from their grasps. They all now sat in the middle of a cloud of sharp things. All it took was a little bit of brandishing and moving the knives, axes, and machetes a little bit closer before almost everypony ran. Those who made an attempt to stand their ground were chased out by the floating hazards. A smirk resided on the face of the unicorn brony as he watched them all flee.
I approached the counters, knowing that some had hid behind them when the brief confrontation had gotten somewhat nasty. I found three people who had been previously ensconced by their ersatz barricade.
"Cause no trouble, and you can stay."
One of the three just didn't listen. She decided to run at me with a knife.
A good kick can break bones.
I aimed for her thigh, and the hit brought her crumpling to the ground. I had restrained myself from using all of my strength, so hopefully she would be suffering nothing more than a mean-looking bruise.
I picked up her weapon, first pointing it at her, and then at the exit. She complied.
The other two stood up. One was a trekkie, judging by the replica blue shirt he wore, and the other was probably the otaku that the unicorn spoke of.
My guess's validity was confirmed as she yelled, "Blitz!" And ran to the brony, whose horn had just stopped glowing, accompanied by the clatter of dropping weapons. "That was the scariest thing I have ever seen!"
"Good to see you too," he replied.
I realized then that throughout this whole ordeal, I had never once asked for a name, and neither had he.
I jumped when the trekkie spoke up, "You know, they don't all hate you; most were just looking for a fight." He grabbed a cup.
"I will be going now."
He walked over to the fountains, filled the cup halfway with pepsi, and left without another word.
I came to know the two I had helped as BlitzSerpent and Primrose_Apprentice. It was eventually decided over Big Macs (not the pony, heheheh) that we would travel together. We equipped ourselves with some of the abandoned weaponry, our choices being a firewood axe and my original knife for me, a machete and knife for Blitz, and the tomahawk that had been embedded in the counter and a switchblade for Primrose.
I had left my bike in the parking lot of the restaurant, constantly under my watching eye. It had remained undisturbed. We realized that new transportation would be needed. Primrose told us that she had passed a few dealerships farther down the road just before she had met Blitz, and with that, we were off.
I split off from the group on the way to the dealerships, and went looking for supplies. I was a part of a team now. Oh wow! I was part of a team now! Damn! A few days ago, I had been preparing for life beyond highschool! I was deciding how to live life. Now, I was recovering from a gunshot wound, helping forcibly clear out restaurants, and teaming up with people I had never met before in order to stay alive! Sure, I was on the fence about the predicament of the world, but for now, I was oddly happy with the change.
Upon seeing a home improvement store, I had an idea. I bypassed the parking lot, driving straight into the store. In retrospect, not the brightest idea, but luck had allowed for the store to be empty. I was riding a motorcycle indoors! Calming myself, I dismounted, walking my bike down the aisles. Thinking of a family tradition I had long desired to take part in, I found some white spray paint, and made a stencil out of spare papers in the building. In the end, the words "Thunderchicken IV" were emblazoned on the side of the bike.
"I'm sure you will be a lot busier than your predecessors," I spoke, patting the bike. Still on a bit of a "violence high," I went to the back of the store and looked through all of the tools and equipment. I came out with a better axe. I then recalled another family memory, and purloined every fire and rescue quality reciprocating sawblade in the store, 8 in total. Once I was through with these things, Blitz would be a true menace.
I rode down towards where the dealerships were supposed to be, and in the distance, I saw an armored money transport vehicle driving towards me. Primrose stuck her head out the window and waved, easing the worry of a threat inside of me. We met at an intersection.
"Pretty sweet, heh?" Blitz piped up, "We found it on the way to the dealerships. The thing was still running. Everyone must have been displaced instantly, even those driving."
That would definitely explain what I saw on the freeway.
"It's fully armored too," Primrose chimed in, "I'd like to see people mess with us now!"
"It's doesn't have the best gas mileage," Blitz added, "but who cares? Gas is free now!"
"Until all of the stations run out," I pointed out.
"Yeah... we might want to have a few jugs in the back for emergencies," Blitz replied.
"I hope bullets can't light gasoline in this new world," Primrose remarked.
"Either way, we have a bulletproof car!" Blitz laughed.
"Oh, and Blitz," I spoke up.
"Yeah?"
"I have a surprise for you?"
"Really?"
"Yeah." I pulled out the sawblades. "My dad taught me how to turn these bad boys into knives. I may need to go back to the home improvement store to grab some tools in order to do so, but imagine the result. Your telekinetic abilities are growing, and these things will have a blade side, and a saw side. They are fire and rescue quality too, which means anything you can't cut through, you can saw through. Have you watched RWBY by any chance?"
"It just so happens that I have, actually."
"You will basically be Penny."
"Nice!"
"What about me?" Primrose asked.
"I'm still thinking..." I looked at the two of them, at how normal everyday clothing didn't seem to suit their new looks. My inner Rarity yelled at how Primrose's reddish-pink hair didn't match her shirt in any way, and how horrendous Blitz looked with his sleeve covered in dried blood. "How about we shop for new looks, or something?"
Primrose lit up. "That's a great idea! I guess you noticed the fashion offense too."
"W-well yeah..." I stuttered, trying to remind myself that it was alright for a guy to know things about fashion.
"I say we all just spend tomorrow customizing," Blitz hopped in.
"So, it's decided?" I asked.
"Yeah," they replied in unison.
"Lets just spend the last few hours of light setting up a base, then," I said in an almost authoritative manner.
We parked the bank car and motorcycle in a parking tower just a few floors short of the top, hoping that higher up meant safer. We all shared a blanket and huddled together in the back of the car. It felt a bit foreign and intimate to me, sleeping with strangers, but I quickly told myself to be mature about it, and once again drifted into the lucid abyss.
